Trust And Survival
by ChaosIdeals
Summary: After the end of the war, Harry had hoped to have a break and eventually took off to America to get away for a few weeks. However, his bad luck seems to still be following him and now he's stuck in the middle of a magic-resistant zombie apocolypse with no way to contact anyone from the magical community. At least he has his explosives.
1. Chapter 1

_Listening to: Thank you and Goodnight – Tonight Alive  
_

* * *

When the Witch growled and lifted her head to glare at him, Harry knew that his plan had just gone down the drain.

The eighteen year old had come to America a month or so ago, to get away from everything (and 'sort out his head' according to Hermione). The aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts had left the British magic community in shambles. And of course, as their 'saviour' it was up to Harry to help sort everything out, from the government to the schooling system to the exchange rate at Gringots (who still only allowed him inside with an armed guard). Added onto that, he had his responsibilities as Lord Potter-Black also thrust upon him by the Wizengamont, making him stress over laws and politics and run around like a headless chicken to stay organised.

Not only was he pushed into fixing everything, the reporters and fans wouldn't leave him alone and mobbed him if he went outside without his invisibility cloak or a disguise.

Added onto the stress from all of his public responsibilities, his private life wasn't great either. He and Ginny had decided to put off trying to repair their relationship, they had been arguing lately and with her at Hogwarts it was hard on the both of them. Ron and Hermione were barely apart unless they were working or studying, and he was beginning to feel like a third-wheel if they went out together. Ron was also helping out George at the joke shop, but he had been trying to convince Harry to become an Auror with him. Hermione had been trying to get him to complete his education but had given up, knowing that he was stubborn when he dug his heels in.

The only truly great thing at the moment was the time he could spend with his godson Teddy. The kid had already wormed his way into everyone's heart, and was determined to make sure he grew up loved and knowing what wonderful people his parents had been.

After three months, Harry had snapped at a large group of fans and Hermione had intervened, dispersing the gawping crowd and pulling him off to a bar for a good Fire Whiskey.

After calming down (and a little bit of alcohol) she had convinced him, in a typically Hermione way, to take a break from everything. Pulling out pamphlets from seemingly nowhere (he'd have to work out how she did that one day) that detailed international portkeys and laws about magic and international travel, they had eventually decided that North America seemed like a good place to take a break.

Four days later, his bag (complete with an undetectable extension charm) was packed and his portkey was booked. While apparition was good for travelling around Britain, it would drain him fair too much to attempt to transport himself over the entire Atlantic Ocean. He was set to return in around two months, his portkey being ready to activate after the two month mark.

Ron and Hermione saw him off, Ron clapping a hand on his shoulder and Hermione hugging him while crying and telling him to not get into too much trouble.

He laughed and hugged her back "Come on Hermione, you know me. I'm going on holiday; I can't have that much bad luck that I'll get into trouble on my break, right?"

* * *

**3 WEEKS LATER**

"Come on Hermione, I can't get into _that_ much trouble can I?" Harry muttered under his breath as he hid inside a safe room.

Everything had been going great when he had arrived, nothing major had happened to him and there was no fuss getting to his hotel. He relished in the freedom and anonymity he had in America having decided to go completely muggle for the rest of his break. His hotel was nice enough, and he had admittedly gotten a few numbers from some very attractive girls who found his accent 'incredibly sexy'.

However, in typical Potter-fashion, his luck couldn't last. A week, one single week after he had arrived, the infection had broken out.  
Originally he hadn't been worried about the Green Flu. He had been told by Madam Pomfrey on one of his many visits to the Hospital Wing that his magic was unusually strong around his immune system and healing his body. Grudgingly, she admitted that this was the reason why he was always released fairly quickly (and had scolded him when he had raised an eyebrow at her).

However, a week after he had arrived, the infected (or Zombies as they were affectionately called) had risen and panic was everywhere. He had quickly found out that magic was near useless against the infected unless he was using apparition to escape (however he had to see where he was going due to being unfamiliar with the city, and the fact that most places were covered with infected didn't exactly help matters).

Firearms, explosives and other weaponry were also quickly used against the rabid former-humans. He had adapted fairly quickly, his less than stellar childhood having caused him to handle a gun or two over his summer breaks for some extra protection in case some rogue Death Munchers attacked him when he wasn't allowed to use magic.

For the first few days he had travelled with another couple, but they had separated from him after an encounter with a few hordes and Harry had come out with a few bite marks.  
He bandaged the wound, but when he hadn't been changed or remotely sick after a week he had reasoned that he was either immune, or his magic was protecting him.

A week and a half after the initial infection and he hadn't been contacted at all by any ministry, British or American. His portkey was still ready for transport, but it wouldn't be activated for another 6 weeks at least. He had used magic in front of some muggles but he still hadn't been contacted and he was beginning to worry.

He could hold out, he was a born survivor. Years of mistreatment at the hands of the Dursleys (although they had never physically beat him, the starvation periods were harsh and had conditioned him to survive on little food) had taught him how to fend for himself, and the conflict of recent years has taught him how to fight.

Either way, wizard rescue or not, two weeks after the initial outbreak, Harry found himself crouched inside a safe room. Around three days ago he had started to notice new mutations, stronger than the rest.  
Grotesque fat ones (that strongly reminded him of his Uncle Vernon) that were called Boomers, nimble and acrobatic ones that were called Hunters. He had seen the ones that were constantly surrounded by smoke with the long tongues called Smokers, and he had carefully avoided the only female Special infected he'd seen called the Witch, who sobbed constantly unless she was disturbed. Harry had shuddered when he had seen a Hunter accidently crash into a Witch, the mess was unbelievable.

The absolute worst mutation he had come across so far was the giant meatball known as the Tank. The massive monsters required several clips of precious ammo to take down, and being by himself made it extremely hard to defeat one. He had mainly survived his encounters with the monsters by apparating as far away as possible and hiding until the beast lumbered off.

The Sorting Hat had always said he had the skills necessary to be a successful Slytherin, so he utilised them to the best of his abilities. The current situation required thinking and taking opportunities to survive, not the usual Gryffindor running-in-wands-raised-and-hoping-for-the-best.

He was patching up an arm that had been damaged by a Hunter and was trying to remember if he had packed any Skele-Grow in his bag for his cracked ribs that came from a Smoker attempting to squeeze him to death. He had had a rough time getting to the safe room, chased by horde after horde and he had dodged at least three Witches and he was sure that he had passed a Tank as well.

'I really need a team to travel with' he thought as he winced, holding his ribs. He had heard gunshots and yelling during his journey, but he had seldom seen any other Survivors so far. Sighing, he grabbed his wand from the floor beside him and pointed it into his bag that sat next to him.  
"Accio Skele-Grow" he murmured and sighed when the bottle zoomed into his waiting hand. The damned potion tasted awful, but if it meant he wouldn't be doubled over in pain the next time he was attacked, in was worth it.

Making a face at the taste, he packed up his medical gear and slid them back into his bag. The groaning from the Common infected was loud, but he blocked it out with years of practise of blocking out his dorm mates snoring. He grabbed a sleeping bag and curled up, deciding to move again in the morning to let his ribs heal properly.

* * *

The next day, he had moved off and was slowly making his way through the city. He looked around; comparing the bust metropolis that had been here less than a month ago to the destroyed and decaying ruin it was now. He managed to avoid being mauled several times and was close to his next safe room when he encountered it.

The Witch sobbed on the ground, right in front of the safe room door. He looked around desperately, but there was no way that he could get around her. The crack that came from apparition would likely startle her, and he didn't have a shot gun at the moment, having traded it for the automatic he was currently carrying, so an attempt at crowing her was out. He began to move back, deciding to find another place to rest when his foot hit the side of an empty trash can, the noise echoing around the alley loudly.

The crying abruptly stopped and he turned his head slowly to face the infected. His heart stopped as the disfigured woman's eyes glowed red and she began to growl and slowly stand up.

So now he was faced with a very angry Witch in front of him and the screaming of a horde coming from behind him. Swearing as the growling increased, he decided he had better chances with the horde than the Witch and he took off running away from the Witch and the safe room. He could hear her shrieking, chasing him as he ran, dodging cars and jumping over trashcans. He knew that she wouldn't give up, but he had to get into an open space where there would be more places to apparate to.

When he heard footsteps ahead of him, he was about ready to just give up. There was almost no way he could survive both a Witch and a horde at the same time, at least by himself. In a last ditch effort, Harry leapt onto a dumpster, and from there vaulted up high enough to grab the fire exit stairs on the side of an apartment building.

He felt the claws of the Witch just miss his feet as he pulled himself up and her shrieks increased as he pulled himself out of her reach. Climbing onto a balcony, he took a breather and fumbled around for a Molotov. Finding one near the top in his bag, he carefully took aim at the still shrieking Witch and lobbed it down onto her. She yelped even louder as she caught fire, but dropped after a minute or so.

Calming his breathing, he carefully climbed back down the ladder and landed on the ground next to the body. He tore his eyes away from the burnt corpse, shoving down the guilt that bubbled in his stomach and put on an indifferent mask. He was never good with killing despite having done it several times before the actual infection, but his stomach still turned when he killed the infected. They were people once, even if they were now complete monsters.

Turning his back on the Witch, he began his walk back to the safe room, looking forward to his well-deserved rest.

However, this was not meant to be, as within taking half dozen steps, a roar was heard behind him and the ground began shaking.

Swearing again, he took off running towards the safe room, hoping to get closer before the Tank caught sight of him. He managed a few meters before a large piece of rubble landed on his right, blowing him off of his feet and into the side of a building.

He stirred slowly despite the roaring and held the side of his head as he sat up. Wiping the blood out of his eyes, he focused on the corner that the Tank was still hidden behind and stood up, aiming his gun, ready and waiting.

He blinked in surprise when he saw four people come running around the corner, being chased by the Tank, firing furiously at it while they ran. Shaking his head to clear it, he took aim and fired at the giant as well, and it quickly fell under the multiple bullets piercing its body.

As the group reached him, they all collapsed breathing hard. Harry took the time to assess them all while they recovered; silently taking up guard in case they were attacked.

The one that was breathing the hardest was an old guy, a war veteran judging by the army uniform he was wearing. His snow white hair was topped with a green beret and he had a packet of cigarettes in his hand, his old one having been dropped in the fight with the Tank. His eyes often flickered to Harry as he recovered, assessing him as well.

A girl leaned against the wall he had been blown into, also catching her breath. She would have only been a year or so older than he was, her soft brown hair and kind features at odds with the weapons and explosives on her person.

Collapsed in the ground was a young guy with dark skin wearing semi-formal clothing. His white office shirt was untucked and his tie was loose. He breathed heavily and stared at the Tank with wide eyes, taking in the sight of the monster.

The final member of their group was leaning against the wall opposite of the girl. He had tattoos all over his arms and a leather vest on. He was glaring at Harry suspiciously as he caught his breath, judging whether he was worth his attention or not.

Harry kept alert, eyes always flickering around before he moved closer to the foursome. They seemed to have recovered, and were reloading their weapons, but they all looked up as he came closer to them. Harry decided to stay on his guard around them. They may have worked together but he was in a weaker position. If things went badly it would be him who got hurt.

The old guy nodded to him when he joined them and the biker dude grunted. The other two sent him small smiles of appreciation.

"Thanks for your help back there son, would have been difficult without you."

Harry shrugged and continued to search the area. "It's no problem; we've all got to help each other out in this... situation."

They seemed taken aback for a second when he spoke, whether because of his accent or if he had said something surprising he didn't know, but he shouldered his automatic, having decimated a large portion of his ammo in the attack, and pulled out a pair of dual pistols. Searching their eyes, he took a risk and turned his back on them and walked off "Safe room is this way if you're wondering. You lot can come if you want, it's be nice to have some company that isn't trying to kill me."

The biker dude spoke up "And how do we know you won't try to use us as a meat shield kid?"

Harry turned around to glare at him, but stopped when a lout shriek echoed from behind the four. He lifted up his guns and fired twice. The body of a Hunter with two bullet holes in the head fell to the ground a few feet from the biker who had tensed up at the fallen infected.

"Does that answer your question" Harry said, smiling a little. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter by the way. Come on, I'll take you to the safe room."

* * *

Hey, hey, hey readers. It's me, the one and only Chaos Ideals. I'm back (having finally having gotten off my writers block) with this cross over. I got L4D a few weeks ago and have been hooked ever since.  
I'm still a little rusty, and this is going to be slow at updating, but I promise it will be.  
I'm gonna have this rated as 'M' for now, but I may lower it to 'T' in the future, I'm not sure yet.  
My other fic SCTMIR is currently undergoing revision and being rewritten (a note will be pt up at some point) as I believe that I can do so. Much. Better. Than what's there.

Either way, I'm back, I'm writing, and I hope that there isn't too many mistakes and that this is interesting for you lot.

Read and Review  
_Chaos, over and out._

_Listening to: Man Like That – Gin Wigmore_


	2. Chapter 2

_Listening to: Demons – Imagine Dragons_

I am so sorry for the wait! I got distracted, then school and exams, plus I got a job.. Anyway, I have loads of free time now, so I'll be able to focus on this. This chapter is a little short, but I promise the next one will be longer. Until then though, enjoy chapter 2 of Trust and Survival.

I forgot the disclaimer last chapter, not that it matters right? It's here now:  
Disclaimer- ChaosIdeals does not own either L4D or Harry Potter who belong to Valve and J.K. Rowling respectively.

Oh yeah, thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or alerted and favourited. You are my new favourites :)

* * *

Zoey looked uncertainly after 'Harry' and shifted her weight from foot to foot. The British guy had not only helped them, but had just saved Francis from being mauled by a Hunter before any of them had any time to react.

She along with the other three survivors had escaped from Mercy Hospital a few days ago, only to have their helicopter pilot fall to the infection while they were in the air. After being forced to shot him, the helicopter had crashed, and the four of them had been working their way through Fairfield and onto Riverside where the graffiti had said there was a military post still operating.

They had been running through alleys for what seemed like ages, and that Tank had chased them for several blocks. If Harry hadn't come in when he did, she had no idea if they would have all survived.

Francis was extremely irritated (not that_ that _was unusual), but he was grudgingly admitting to Bill that the kid had saved his ass.

Louis was as jumpy as she was, although his anxiety was more focused on the massive body of the Tank and the fallen Hunter than about the guy that had helped them. He seemed eager to get to the safe room as quickly as possible.

Bill watched Harry as he walked away, smoke curling from his cigarette. His eyes were calculating as they strayed to how he moved, how tense Harry's shoulders and the way that his hands still had not yet left the trigger of his guns.

Zoey herself was intrigued by the British man. Harry could only be around the age of eighteen or so, barely a year younger than her. His bright green eyes (not that she was looking) had the same old I've-seen-some-shit look that Bill had, and she could see pain hidden in them too.

Francis finally broke his irritable scowl and hefted his shotgun over his shoulders. "So, do we follow Lancelot or what?"

Louise looked behind them once more, and frowned when some more moaning was heard. He turned back to them and lifted his semi-automatic as well "I say we go; it's better than staying here in the open."

Bill took a swift drag from his cigarette and sighed. "Kid could either be a great help, or he could be a danger to us all. I've seen guys like him before, he's seen war."

Zoey whipped her head around to stare at Bill "You can't be serious Bill! He's barely old enough to be legal to join up"

He looked at her grimly "Who said it was the British Military?" he adjusted his med pack and looked after Harry who had just turned the corner up ahead. "I say we go with the kid for now. He knows his way to the closest safe room, and if we don't find this one, who's to say where the next one is and what's between us and it"

Francis grunted and absently moved a hand to his back pack "I'm running low on ammo old man; let's go before another horde shows up."

Zoey looked behind the group once more and nodded. They moved off together as a group, Bill in front and Francis at the back. They caught up to Harry around the corner where he had stopped to get a look further ahead.

He smirked at them (although it looked slightly forced to Zoey) and nodded to acknowledge them. "Made up your minds?" he asked lightly

Bill blow out some cigarette smoke "We'll come with you kid. Safety in numbers, for now at least."

Harry nodded again and moved forward carefully, pistols held out in front. "The safe room isn't far, and there wasn't too many commons hanging around last time I came through"

Francis snorted "What made you come back anyway, forget your teabags?"

Zoey resisted the urge to smack him on the back of the head, an urge that Bill seemed unable to resist. Louis chuckled at Francis's disgruntled yelp as he rubbed his head.

Harry didn't even turn around "Not that it matters, but a Witch was in the way. Accidently startled her and I had to sprint to escape." Zoey's head snapped to Harry, eyes searching for the trademark Witch wounds. She noticed that the others had also turned to face him.

"How the hell did you get out of that?" Louis asked, looking over his wound-less body in amazement. This time Harry did look back at them grinning slightly.

"I'm _very_ fast"

Thankfully they encountered no more Infected before they reached the safe-room, and they firmly locked and barricaded the door behind them. A collective release of tension made Zoey smile as the weight of fighting for their lives was lifted for the night.

The group moved around, searching for extra supplies whether it was ammo or clean clothes. Francis let out a whoop when he found a six-pack of beer and a small bag of doughnuts. Bill checked the area directly outside the door on the other side before barricading it up. He was frowning when he turned around, lighting another cigarette.

"What's out there?" she asked, changing a bandage on her arm. A common had managed to scratch her before the Tank came after them, and the damn thing stung.

"Can't see anything yet, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything hiding around the corner."

Harry got up and had a look outside. He muttered something before turning to face Bill.  
"There's a few hiding around the corner, no Special though."

Louis smiled weakly "Well there's something to be thankful for."

Francis's head popped out from under a bench where he was searching for a med pack "Anyone else need a drink? Cause if you don't I'll be happy to take this lovely pack for myself."

Bill growled "Don't come complaining to me in the morning."

Louis joined Francis while Bill sat down next to Zoey, also bandaging up a cut on his leg. Zoey cleaned it up for him and helped him bandage it; thankfully it wasn't deep and would heal pretty quickly.

The pair looked up at Harry who was sitting apart from the group. He had found some dry pasta in a cupboard and had pulled out a pot and filled it with water from who-knew where and was quietly waiting for it to boil.

"Kid –"

"It's Harry."

Bill lips twitched up "Harry then. What brought you over here? You look young enough to be in school."

Zoey could see Harry grimace before his face was wiped of emotion. A hand rubbed the back of his head in a nervous motion "Just taking a break. Heard that the colonies were a good place to escape for a while." He laughed "Thought my bad luck wouldn't follow me here."

Zoey frowned, concern ran through her. "Bad luck? Can't be that bad to compare to whatever this damn thing is." She waved her hand towards the barricaded doors.

The pot came to boil and he dumped the pasta inside. Lowering the flame to a simmer he moved closer to them. "I'd need about four more hands to count the number of times I've nearly been killed." He smiled when their jaws dropped (well hers did. Bill just raised an eyebrow – lucky, she wished her reaction was that calm) "This isn't actually that surprising if I really think about it."

Zoey was itching to ask what could have happened to their new (temporary? Permanent?) teammate but Harry spoke before she could. "What about you lot, how'd you get stuck behind in the cities? Are you two father and daughter and pick up these two strays on the way?" he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the slightly buzzed pair. (Although she noticed that Louis was quite content with one can and seemed to find entertainment in Francis - who was on his third already - rambling about how much he hated Reality TV.)

A warm feeling ran through her chest when he asked if Bill was her father. Despite the heavy guilt she was carrying at having to shoot her dad, Bill was someone who she looked up to and knew she could count on.

She saw Bill smile "Something like that."  
A dull silence fell over them, only broken by Francis's rant and the odd groan from outside the barricaded doors. The pasta was shared out, with nothing else it was pretty dry but filling. Zoey looked over to Harry who was quietly rummaging through his pack. It looked like his arm was in far deeper than it should have been able to, but she put it down to a trick of the light. His eyes turned to her suddenly and he smiled when she hurriedly looked away.

"Got something to ask?"

He didn't seem angry, but Zoey decided to be cautious just in case. "Are you looking for something?"

He tilted his head to the side. His bright green eyes seemed to be considering her question, debating whether to answer. "Just looking for a picture, that's all."

"What of?"

His eyes flickered to her again before going back to his bag. "My godson, Teddy." He grew sad "I'm all he's got left besides his Gran; someone's gotta look after him. That's why I need to get back."

Bill shifted next to her, making Zoey jump a little. She'd forgotten he was there.

"Don't know how you're going to manage that son. We can barely get to a safe house here, let alone out of the country."

Harry gripped his bag tight "I'll manage" he said tightly. He reached for a sleeping bag from the pile that was in the corner. "I'm going to get some sleep. Don't wake me up unless its life or death." With that, Harry slid into the bag and rolled over, leaving his back to them.

Zoey frowned, noticing Bill doing the same. She leaned over and whispered to him.

"What's up with that?"

Bill stubbed out what was left of his cigarette. "How would I know, we just meet the kid." His dark eyes lingered on the figure "I'd be careful though, he's dangerous. That much I can tell."

Bill slowly stood up "Judging by the graffiti hanging around, there's a Depot around here. We might be able to get some wheels in the morning." He turned his gaze on her "Get some sleep kid; we'll need all the energy we can get tomorrow."

Zoey was left to herself, back against the wall, curled up in a sleeping bag.

She threw one last look at the steadily breathing Brit before rolling over. She didn't know how Harry was going to change things. She just hoped it was for the best.

* * *

_Listening to: Painting Flowers – All Time Low_


	3. Chapter 3

_Listening to: Give Me Love – Ed Sheeran_

**A.N.: ****Well hello everyone, another update is upon us, congratulate me on being able to actually continue a fic.  
Anyway, hope this chapter is up to scratch; there weren't many reviews for last chapter… only one in fact (HuskyWalker? Yeah, you are my favourite person right now). However, I did get an increase in follows and favourites, so I am happy about that.  
In that spirit, I would like to ask if people could actually leave a review? As much as I hate to admit it, it does tend to get writers off their butts and write. **

**On a side note, I had to laugh when I looked at my traffic stats. Absolutely nothing on the 21****st**** of December seems like people were out enjoying the supposed end of the world.**

**Disclaimer: ****See chapter 2.**

* * *

Harry lay still as he waited for his temporary allies to fall asleep. When Bill had finally drifted off, he waited another five minutes to make sure everyone was out. Deciding it was safe he slowly got up and dragged his bag towards himself.

The problem with traveling with Muggles, he decided, was that they were suspicious of everything. He had a small supply of potions with him in his bag (a habit from the war, always be prepared for anything) and could probably have helped them. He couldn't slip them any Skelegrow or any healing potions, so they'd all be slowed down if they got seriously injured. His own injuries were light enough that they didn't notice when his magic had healed the cut to his head, but anything serious and they might decide to hold him at gunpoint.

He heard a tapping on the safe room door, the one he had checked earlier with a revealing spell similar to the Homenum Revelio, but one that just detected presences rather than humans. He wasn't sure if the infected could be classed as 'human' any more.

He flicked his wrist causing his wand to slip out of its holster and into his hand, and edged toward the door. He didn't dare to get his hopes up, he hadn't had any contact in weeks and the last time he'd responded to a tapping on a window it hadn't gone too well.

He reached the door and carefully looked through the bars, silently casting the revealing spell once again. A layout appeared in his eyes, with all large human-sized (and one tank-sized) auras were very far away having given up on getting into the room. His eyes widened as he felt a very small, very avian aura near one of the boarded up windows where the tapping was coming from.

Looking behind him at the sleepers he stilled when he saw Zoey roll to face him, closed eyes and forehead wrinkling as she frowned in her sleep. When it was clear she was still asleep, he cautiously whistled through the door. The tapping stopped and he heard a high-pitched trill and a very familiar shape flew into his vision.

The tiny fluff ball of an owl known as Pigwidgeon filled Harry with feelings of hope that he hadn't felt in a while. The bird, seeing Harry at the door trilled excitedly and hovered in front of the door expectantly.

"Shh Pig, give me a minute and I'll let you in" he hissed, waiting for the bird to stop before he carefully lifted the bar from the door. Easing it open enough for the tiny bird to fly through, he allowed it to land on his shoulder as he quickly shut it and barred it once more.

Turning around he slowly made his way to his sleeping bag that was as far from the others as he was going to get. He lowered himself to the ground and placed Pig on a box next to him.

"What have you got for me now Pig?" he whispered. The normally excitable bird seemed to understand the need for quiet for once and simply lifted a leg that had a thick letter tied to it. Harry nearly lunged at the small bird, but restrained himself and carefully lifted the parchment from the leg. Summoning some owl treats from his bag (he realised that he honestly just had everything in there) and giving a few to Pig, he ripped the envelop open and held the letter inside almost reverently as he recognized the handwriting of both of his closest friends.

_Harry_

_Oh Merlin, Harry, if this reaches you and you're still alive please respond as quickly as you can. The letter is charmed so only you can open it and we'll be alerted as soon as it is.  
The Americans blocked off all access in and out of the UMSA and pulled out as many of its citizens as it could, or sent them off to Atlantis and also blocked the normal Muggle USA as soon as the virus exploded. They only let us send this to you because you're you and even they know about Harry Potter._

_The return portkey that you got will still work, but it'll only activate when it was originally going to, so you're going to have to survive for a bit longer before you can escape. They've set up a quarantine area where the portkeys would normally return to, only a few people have come through so far, most of the news hasn't been great. Sweet Merlin Harry, I'm so sorry I suggested going to America, we should have just gone somewhere quiet, like up to Denmark or New Zealand or gone to Australia to see my parents. _

_We have almost no information on what's happening, only what we can get out of the people who've returned alive and psychologically alright to share, and the American government is being very secretive about the whole thing, so we're stuck on what we can help you with. We have no idea what you're up against but from the sounds of it, things are dangerous._

_Oh Harry, please be careful. I know you can survive another fortnight, but please get out of there alive. Get a message to us as soon as you can, we'll help however we can._

_Be safe_

_Love from Hermione_

_P.S. They've authorised the use of magic for the magical citizens that are still running around. Be careful who you use it in front of, but because of the danger level there won't be any consequences._

Harry gripped the letter, crushing it slightly in his hands. He was stuck in this hell hole for another two weeks, but the only reason he was allowed to have the opportunity to escape was because of who he was. He looked over to the people he was sharing the room with and felt a cold feeling clench his stomach. Sure he had only just met them, and he sure as hell didn't trust them that much, but the four non-magical Americans should have just as much of a right to leave as he did.

He put Hermione's letter down and read through Ron's.

_Harry_

_Bloody hell, these things always happen to you don't they mate? Hermione has probably explained everything to you in her letter, but in case she forgot I'll tell you what I know._

_The UMSA government has closed off America to anyone getting in or out unless they have an authorised portkey. That means you can get out (and you better get out, I don't want to have to put up with Mum or Hermione if you don't. I'll miss you too, you know?) When your portkey activates and it'll take you to the quarantine. So far I think it's only been about 10 to come back alive, and only half of them have survived the aftereffects of whatever is happening over there. _

_Hermione doesn't want me to worry you, says you've got enough to worry about just to survive, but you've gotta know mate. Any survivors you meet, magical or Muggle, may be carrying the virus. The healers say that it's impossible for wizards to actually be affected by it, and some Muggles may have a resistance, but many carry it. They're working on a cure for the carriers, but the quarantine is pretty bad. _

_Just don't die mate; we'll all miss you too much. Don't think you'd want to have survived everything you have so far, only to be beaten by a virus. Good luck Harry._

_Ron._

_P.S. Pig flies to an outpost in the Florida Keys and then the letters are sent instantly over to Britain, it's how international messaging can be instant in cases of emergency. It may take a few days, but we'll reply._

Harry put the letters down and ran a tired hand over his face. If he could survive the next few weeks, he'd be fine. Just fourteen days and he'd be able to go home. He wasn't lying when he told Bill and Zoey that he would get home, he was determined to not die here.

He pulled a graffitied CEDA poster from the wall and ripped off a letter sized piece. Pens were everywhere in the safe house, probably left over from all the writers who scribbled on the walls, and he quickly found one that worked.

_Ron and Hermione_

_Yeah, dangerous isn't the word I'd use to describe what's happening here. Have you gotten any recent people returning in? Because if you had I think you'd have an idea of what's happening here. I won't bother you with the details, but Hermione, if you've seen any Zombie movie… Well it's about ten times worse than that. _

_The infected I wouldn't class as human, and some have mutated even more than the others. Surviving isn't easy, but you both know me, I won't go down that easy._

_I met a small group of survivors last night after nearly three weeks on my own. Don't know how much I trust them to help watch my back, but there's some safety in numbers. _

_The Muggle military has completely abandoned any survivors, I don't think I've heard any active fighting against anything except for small groups of survivors. The infected are almost completely magic resistant, only muggle methods work. It's brutal, I don't know how the country is going to be cleaned up, it's hard enough just moving from safe house to safe house._

_Hermione, I'm glad that you got me into the habit of being prepared when I pack, and Ron, I'm glad that you helped me get better at strategy. It's a battlefield guys, the day I leave won't come soon enough. Judging by the graffiti there's a truck depot near here, I think that's where we'll head next. Try and get some wheels so we can move faster._

_I'll do my best to stay safe, don't worry about me too much. If something happens –_

His hand shook for a moment as he prepared to write what he needed to.

_If something happens to me, make sure Teddy is looked after alright? That's all I can ask of you guys. Please look after yourselves, hopefully I'll see you on the other side._

_Harry_

He reread the letter, then rolled it up. He couldn't let Pig out at the moment, so he got him a bowl of water to drink out of and put the letter in his bag. He'd send it off in the morning, although he had no idea how to explain how an owl had gotten inside the room, let alone why he was sending it off with a letter.

* * *

Harry woke up to shrill hooting, loud yelling and feathers on his face. Shoving his glasses on and sitting up, he took in the scene in front of him.

Closest to him were Zoey and Louis. The pair were both shaking with silent laughter and Zoey was holding onto his shoulder to stop herself from falling over. Bill was the next person he saw, cigarette already smoking in his mouth. His beret was slightly astray on his head as he held his hands up in a placating manner, his brow furrowed even as Harry saw his lips twitching up slightly.

Finally he saw the source of the commotion. Francis was moving his arms wildly about, gun on the floor apparently forgotten in his haste. A small feathery ball he recognised as Pigwidgeon was hovering in front of the biker, squawking angrily as he avoided the flailing limbs.

"Get that feathery bastard out of here! How the hell did it even get in?" Francis yelled, holding his arms in front of his face as Pig began dive bombing him.

Bill appeared to have given up and was now smirking at the leather clad man. "What's wrong Francis? Big bad biker is scared of a little bird?"

Looking at the laughing duo and the now grinning veteran, Harry decided to fix the problem before things got even more out of control.

"Pig, stop being an idiot and get over here." He tilted his head to the side as the owl, taking notice of the now awake Harry, chirped happily and abandoned his mission and flew to sit on Harry's head. Francis slowly lowered his arms and stared at Harry, along with the rest of the survivors. Harry absently scratched the owls head and looked at them questioningly.

"What?" He finally asked.

Zoey cocked her head to the side "Did… did you just call that bird –"

"Pig? Yes, yes I did." Seeing that they were still confused, he sighed. "It's short for Pigwidgeon. He belongs to my friend, his sister called him that once and then he wouldn't respond to anything else."

Bill blinked and breathed in a long suffering sigh "And just _why_ is there an owl, named Pig, who belongs to your friend inside the safe room and sitting on your head?"

Harry stilled before nodding to the bared door. "He's trained to carry letters, in case of emergencies you know? I heard the tapping last night and woke up to see him squeeze through the bars." He hoped they would accept the explanation.

They all seemed to move closer to him "So you can send messages out as long as the owl is here?" Bill asked, staring intently at Harry. He held the stare, long used to the glaring competitions with Snape to be intimidated by it.

"Only to Ron. He hasn't been able to find me for a while, and I guess with the phones out he resorted to Pig."

He took a deep breath, hoping he could word the next sentence out right without telling them about magic just yet. He didn't trust them enough to share that particular secret with them.

"He told me of a possible – _very_ slight – chance of being able to get out of here." He saw their eyes widen and the beginnings of hope begin to rise in all of them, even Francis who was still sending distrustful glances at the bird on Harry's head. "It wouldn't be for two weeks, but we might just be able to get out of here alive if we survive that long."

He narrowed his eyes "The chance is very small. I won't tell you the details yet in case it doesn't happen, but if it does… well believe me, you'll know."

Zoey and Louise grinned "It's still something though" she smiled at Harry "Even if it doesn't happen, the fact that we have some kind of contact with people outside is something."

Harry smiled tentatively at the brunette and reached down and pulled out the make-shift letter and tied it to Pig's leg as the bird held its leg out.

Francis glared at the bird, who puffed up his chest and looked haughtily at the man. Francis snorted and turned around, muttering about birds and guns and shooting. They all began packing up their stuff, shoving things into their bags and double checking all their weapons. Harry sat on a box as Bill looked at each of them in turn.

"Graffiti says that there's a truck depot near, hopefully some form of vehicle will be there and we can use that to move quicker towards some help." He frowned "The Florida Keys should still be relatively unharmed seeing as the bastards can't swim for some reason. I reckon we should try find a boat and go there, wait out the storm."

Francis growled "What makes you say that old man? Who made you in charge, huh?"

Zoey glared at the biker "It was just a suggestion Francis, you have a better idea?"

Louis, ever the peace maker, intervened "Guys, can we just try and stay alive? We've already gotta fight what's out there" he said pointing to the door "Don't make it the same in here."

Harry could see tempers flaring and stood up. "I think it's a good plan. Even if we get distracted or separated, it's a good idea to meet up again." He looked at them "We can't guarantee survival, so if we have some form of a goal then we have something to work towards." Flashes of Horcrux hunting, angry words and empty tents went through his mind.

Bill cleared his throat "Just an idea. Anyway, we need to get ready to head to the depot. I have a feeling it's going to get dangerous."

Harry saw the veteran sliding over to him as the others were distracted by another checking of ammo and medical supplies.

"This rescue" the old man started "How likely is it that it will happen?"

Harry looked into his eyes. Despite the strength and determination he saw there, they were tired and desperate for some good news. Harry recognised them well, having seen them in the mirror more times than he could count.

"Depends" he said "Depends on how much I trust you by the time it comes."

* * *

**T-Minus 13 days – and counting.**

* * *

**Chaos do good? I'm thinking that a few characters may be a bit OOC, but I think that with Harry there, plus the actual situation would change a few things for everyone. I put in Francis' little bird phobia for a laugh, I don't know, but *I* found it funny.  
Either way, I was in the mood for writing and this is what turned out. Hope it was okay, I'll try and have the next chapter up soon. Any mistakes, please tell me and I'll fix them ASAP. If anyone is interested in being a Beta, message me and I'll see how it goes.**

**NEXT CHAPTER: The Survivors plus Harry fight their way to the truck depot in hopes for a ride out of the Infected city, their hopes pinned to a small bird winging it's way to civilisation with a letter strapped to its leg.**

_**DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW**_

_**-Chaos, over and out.**_

_Listening to – Queen Dot Kong – The Du_


	4. Chapter 4

**Heh heh.. uh, hey everyone. Long-time no see? I'm so sorry for the wait, this chapter has been sitting on my hard-drive partially written since January, but I didn't do any work on it. I have no excuse other than life is a bitch and it's my final year of school so everything is just piling up. The teachers seem to find it funny to make all of our assignments due in the same week, on each consecutive day. I could rage a while, but I really just want to get on with the chapter. I hope you like and that it was worth the wait.**

**On a side note, the school desk I'm typing this on seems to have egg smeared on it… Gotta love high school.**

**Oh, and a special thanks to LonelyDayzDreamer. Your review was amazing and got my arse into gear to finish this chapter, I'm sorry I didn't reply to your lovely review sooner :). A special thanks to everyone else who reviewed last time as well, I love you all!**

**And so, on with the show!**

**P.S. I've got no beta, so if there's anything wrong just send a message and I'll fix it.**

**DISCLAIMER: ChaosIdeals owns nothing of L4D or Harry Potter, both of which belong to their respective owners. I merely play in their sandpit.**

_Listening to: Born Into Revolution – J. T. Machinima_

* * *

They set off half an hour later.

Bill was now casting distrustful looks towards Harry, who was currently to the right of their diamond-esque formation, not being trusted enough to watch their backs or to even walk directly behind any of them.

He knew that his reply was only heard by Bill, and he knew that while Bill understood his conditions he didn't like them. Harry felt bad that he was basically holding their survival above their heads and then putting it on an impossibly high shelf, but he wouldn't allow those feelings to show.

He may have been placed in Gryffindor, but the hat was right when it spoke of his Slytherin tendencies. He didn't trust the Survivors, and he wasn't about to show them any weakness. Letting Bill and Zoey know about Teddy was already a mistake, he wasn't about to make a repeat.

They moved through the streets at a steady pace, the various trucks blocked some paths forcing them to go around, go over or cut through some offices. They moved mostly in silence, mainly calls for directions or when they were reloading. Harry had to grin when as they ran through a storage room full of paper, Zoey called out "Sweet! Free copy paper! The apocalypse was totally worth it."

Pig had flown with them for a while, sticking mainly to the air but leaving when they encountered the first horde of infected. Harry could only hope that the tiny bird would make it safely.

They picked up more ammo and explosives on the way, other Survivors having left some behind – willingly or otherwise- and checked their surroundings before moving on.

Bill held up a hand and furiously whispered "Lights out!"

They were engulfed in sudden darkness as the sound of wailing reached their ears. Harry froze as they peaked out from behind a shipping container. In the middle of the path that they had to travel down sat a weeping Witch. The other common infected were nowhere to be seen, being intelligent enough to keep well away from the emotional infected.

"Any ideas?" Bill asked. Francis hefted his shotgun up questioningly, only to have the others shake their heads. "Too close to us, she'll be able to see you coming."

Harry peaked around the corner and saw that she was near a truck. He mentally made a tally of the Molotov's he had left. He started with three, but lost one against the Witch he'd seen before the others had shown up. He'd found another three along the way, but had given two to Zoey when he saw her look longingly at them.

"If you lot can get to higher ground then I may be able to sort this."

At the questioning looks he wordlessly held out a Molotov.

"Are you insane?!" Zoey whispered sharply "You'll get yourself killed!"

She got no support from Francis (who was looking mildly impressed, if a little put-out) or Louis (who bit his lip in thought). She turned to Bill who was staring intently at Harry.

"You sure about this kid?" So they were back to kid now "Pretty dangerous. Wouldn't want you to risk you're life for us now."

Harry glared at the old man "It's fine Bill, I think I can handle it. Just keep off the ground and watch out for the Smokers."

He stalked off to the other side of the truck, eventually hearing the others scramble up the front of their cover to the top of the container. He snuck through the bushes till he reached the truck he was aiming for. Looking around he saw nothing hiding in the shadows or on the rooftops around him. The survivors were crouching on top of their truck, and he could feel them watching his every move.

Sighing, he pulled himself up the back of the truck and onto the roof. He crept slowly across, the wailing louder than ever as he moved closer to his target.

At the back of his mind he wondered why he was bothering. So far it had just been him helping them, and they had lead the Tank towards him. They were the ones he was risking his life for when he would normally just apparate or use his invisibility cloak to sneak past. (If he was quiet, the Witches would normally allow him to sneak past even when they knew he was there).

But he has never been able to leave people who were in danger, so cursing his hero-complex; Harry crept forward to the edge of the truck.

A yelp to his right startled him "Shit!"  
His head snapped around to see Louis struggling with a tongue wrapped tightly around him. Zoey was pulling on the part wrapped around his neck as Bill was grabbing a knife. Francis was furiously aiming up at the Smoker; firing bullets till the smoke cloud erupted signalling its death.

He turned back around to the Witch who had stopped wailing and had turned its head and its glowing red eyes towards the struggling survivors. His eyes widened as it began to climb to its feet, growling as it did.

He hurriedly lobbed the Molotov towards it, the glass breaking and the flames ignited the now shrieking Witch. Harry scrambled down the opposite end of the truck and sprinted towards the survivors who were the targets of the inflamed Witch. She would collapse soon enough, but her claws were tearing apart the metal container and causing it to groan loudly. A loud roar signalled the oncoming hoard and he swore loudly as he sent shots into the now slowing down Witch.

The Survivors worked together like a well-oiled machine. Louis, although nursing his injured ribs, was doing what he could from his downed position on the edge of the container. The bullets flying and taking down whatever they hit. Francis had jumped down next to Harry on the ground and they were working together, watching each other's backs as they kept the horde from getting too close.

Bill and Zoey were on either side of Louis, making sure he didn't fall off the unstable truck. They didn't need to look at each other as they instinctively mimicked and countered for each other's movements.

Not quickly enough, the horde finally ended. The only sounds they could hear was their heavy breathing and Harry could hear his heart thrumming in his ears.

Slowly he lowered his guns; feeling rather than seeing the others do the same. Without speaking, Bill and Zoey helped Louis to get down, Francis catching him to prevent him from injuring himself any more. Harry helped Zoey and Bill down and sat down heavily on the ground.

Sucking in a deep breath, he muttered to the others "Next time… We'll stay away from the roofs."

Louis chuckled, wincing as he held his ribs "I second that."

Zoey knelt next to Louis and instructed him to lift his shirt. No one could help wincing at the early bruises that had already shown up on the man's skin. Zoey carefully poked around, apologising when Louis would flinch. When she finished, she let out a huff of air.

"Thankfully, nothing's broken, just really bad bruising."

She carefully helped Louis to wrap the bandages around him, Francis and Bill keeping a look out for any danger after hearing that Louis wasn't in too bad of a condition.

"You'll be in pain for quite a while" Zoey said to him "We'll have to be careful".

Harry got up and held a hand out to help Louis up. The group looked at the carcasses around them before they continued on their way, this time, never looking back.

* * *

Finally they reached what appeared to be an entrance to the depot.

"So, what, over the truck?" Francis asked. They had been moving for ages, the Witch incident having slowed them down dramatically, and it was getting darker. The depot gates had been locked and the barbed wire fences were impossible to get over, until they had found a truck that had been jack-knifed into the fence, making a path into the depot.

"No other way" Bill grumbled "Damn fence",

Harry eyed the drop on the other side of the fence. "Louis, will you be all right with that fall?"

"No worries, I'll be fine"

They made their way onto the front end of the truck, helping Louis where they could. They trekked their way onto the container and over the fence toll they reached the end.

"No ladder" Francis scowled. He leapt down from the truck, crouching when he hit the ground. "S'not that bad of a fall, just crouch and roll."

Harry jumped next, rolling as he landed. He got back his feet and brushed off his hands on his jeans. Turning to the truck, he waved them down before moving forward to check out the area as Francis helped get Louis down.

Holding his pistols in front of him, Harry inspected around the maze of trucks in the depot. Shooting a few stray infected, he waited for the rest of his group to catch up.

"You alright Louis?" he asked

"It'll take more than that to keep me down" Louis grinned, before wincing and grabbing his ribs.

They moved towards the massive garage, eyeing the barricade that had been set up on one of the trucks outside. Harry noticed a single generator that was linked up to something inside the garage. Following the line, they came to a stop at a car lift. On top was a large armoured truck, modified to be the ultimate zombie defence vehicle.

Francis whistled "Damn, now THAT would be handy."

"But how do we get it down? The power's out" Zoey said. Harry traced the wires that were attached to the car lift engine, following them back to the generator. "We'll be able to get it down, but it'll be loud. Attract a few hordes; risk two or three Tanks as well."

Bill blew out a frustrated sigh, the cigarette smoke curling in the air. "Might be the only way out. With this we could knock down the gates and get out of town. That truck will be able to move almost anything out of the way, meaning we'll be able to get out of town."

Louis kept one hand on his ribs, looking concerned "But how will we be able to hold off that many infected? The generator doesn't look too good; we'll have to restart it a few times."

Harry walked outside with Zoey and looked around the barricades. "People must have planned for that – all these barricades are designed for defence, even ammo and a few pipe bombs around here. Pretty sure I see some gas and petrol tanks too."

He could set up some 'extra' defences as well to help them watch their backs. He'd discovered that a few well-placed bombarda spells at the right time would blow up just as well as a gas tank.

They ran around the area, moving the canisters around and grabbing as ammo as they could. They set Louis up on the edge of the truck, handing him the extra ammo as well. If they didn't have to climb off and on the truck every time they needed to reload, they would stay a little bit safer.

Harry helped Zoey carry the petrol cans around. They filled up the generator and then spread the leftover cannisters around. If the hordes got to heavy they could set them on fire and thin them out a little.

He slipped behind the truck that they were going to use as a base and slid his wand out of its wrist holster. He muttered a few spells that Fred and George had taught him during their reign of terror on Umbridge back in school. The booby trap spells weren't deadly, but they would slow the Infected down… hopefully.

Going back around to the front of the truck where the others were he joined the circle. Louis was perched on the edge of the truck, but he was biting his lip nervously. Everyone looked grim, but Harry was sure his face was the same.

"So who's gonna start this thing?" Bill barked out. Harry looked at the other two next to him. Francis had a near-manic grin growing, while Zoey clocked her pistol. He looked back at Bill who was lighting a fresh cigarette, the flame of his lighter casting flickering shadows on his face. Harry rolled his shoulders, hearing the bones pop. "I'm ready"

"Same here" piped up Zoey.

"Let's do it" said Louis, still looking around carefully.

"Let's go, old man!" Francis grinned. He pumped his shotgun, looking every bit as menacing as he did excited.

Bill smirked "Right then."

Bill, Zoey and Harry climbed up on top of the truck and took their places. Harry had his back to the garage, facing the way they came. Francis checked the generator one more time before he fired it up. He ran to the bus and leapt onto the roof as the old generator spluttered into life. It began to drone loudly, causing the Survivors to wince, but as the lift began to descend they breathed a sigh of relief.

Harry gripped his new submachine gun and listened as the roar of a horde sounded in the distance. "Here they come" he muttered.

The Common came first. They blindly ran towards the noise, intent on finding the remaining un-infected. Harry could feel his heart rate begin to speed up, the sound of gunfire was loud in his ears and added into the noise of the lift and Infected hoards. He squeezed the trigger, causing the bullets to spew out and hit the oncoming infected. He heard the screech of a Hunter before it was quickly silenced. There weren't as many coming from this side as the others, so he flicked his wrist making his wand shoot into his hand. He cast a bombarda on the ground in front of the Infected, watching as they either flew backwards or got destroyed along with the earth.

"Dammit Harry! What was that?" Bill yelled. He was firing furiously on his own targets, managing to help Louis hold off all the infected on their side. Zoey and Francis Were doing just as well on theirs, although Harry was a little worried about how excited Francis looked.

"Sorry! Must have hit a petrol can or something" he yelled back. He took aim at a Smoker that had climbed onto the garage roof. The thing exploded, leaving behind hazy green smog. Harry turned around to see another Hunter leaping towards their bus. He shot at it, causing it to yell as fell out of the sky and land heavily next to him. He looked up from the body, only to hear the generator splutter and give out. The lift halted in its descent, about a third of the way down.

He turned to Bill and the others as they finished with their hoards. An eerie silence fell on them and they cautiously moved to reload their guns while Harry slid off the bus to restart the generator. His feet touched the ground when he heard it. A roar of rage and the sound of tearing metal. The ground vibrated as he ran to the generator. He skidded to a stop as the Tank came around the corner, smashing into the other buses. The other three began firing on it as Zoey threw a Molotov.

He fumbled with the generator, punching the buttons to restart it. As it reluctantly spluttered into life, he heard the sound of more hordes arriving. Looking to the Survivors, he was relieved to notice that they had dealt with the Tank before things got too bad. He ran back to the bus, grabbing Francis' outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

"Everyone still good?" Bill asked, stubbing what remained of his cigarette on the roof of the bus. A round of affirmatives sounded from everyone else as they took up their positions to defend themselves once more.

Bill sidled up to Harry "That wasn't a gas can was it, son?" he murmured. Harry speared him a glance before focussing on the area in front of him.

"Let's just focus on getting safe for now."

* * *

The hordes were relentless. Wave after wave, they kept coming. Harry was back onto his pistols while the others looked like they would have to change soon as well. Another Tank had come and was lying next to the first one, riddled with bullets and burn marks. Carcasses of Commons, Hunters, Smokers and the odd Boomer lower half were scattered around.

Finally, _finally_ the lift had reached the bottom.

"This better have been bloody worth it" he grumbled as they dealt with the last of the Commons. Zoey laughed and grinned at him as she finished her area. When they remaining hordes were dealt with, they all slowly lowered their weapons. Harry's ears were pricked for any signs of anything else. Tanks could be sneaky buggers when they wanted to be, but they weren't exactly the quietest of things. You could practically hear the ominous music if one showed up.

Still careful, they climbed off the bus. After checking Louis' ribs once more, they went inside to check on their prize. The truck was a monstrosity of a thing, deadly and incredibly useful.

"Shotgun driving!" Francis yelled, moving towards the door and climbing inside. They others looked at each other before looking at the excited man in the driver's seat. A moment later he poked his head out the window.

"Any of you know where the keys are?"

Bill sighed.

* * *

With the keys found and given to an eager Francis, they piled into the truck. Bill sat in front next to Francis while Zoey and Harry tried to make the back comfortable for Louis to sit in. The truck was built like a fortress. It busted through the gates easily and soon they were on the road out of the town. They left Fairfield behind them and were soon heading out to Riverside.

Zoey and Bill fell asleep pretty quickly, while Francis was content driving. Louis was trying to drop-off, but Harry could see him wincing every now and then. Biting his lip, he pulled his bag over. He rummaged through the extended space before muttering

"Accio"

A pain relief potion flew into his hand. Skele-grow would fix the problem, but that would be too obvious. He held out the bottle to Louis.

"Here, drink this. It's home-made, it'll dull the pain."

Louis reached out hesitantly. "What's in it?"

Harry shook his head a little "It's a Chinese recipe my friend found a while back. It's harmless, just a few herbs and things."

Louis looked doubtful, but he swallowed it down. Harry smiled when relief spread over the older man's face. He sighed and murmured "Thank you" before he too fell asleep.

Harry allowed himself to relax a little more and shut his eyes. They wouldn't arrive in Riverside for a few hours, so he figured he should get some rest.

**T-minus 12 days…**

* * *

_Listening to : Too Old to Die Young – Brother Dege_

**Hope it was up to par, I'll try and avoid another 6 month wait for the next chapter.**

**ChaosIdeals, over and out.**


End file.
